


Happy

by spnsmile



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel/Dean Winchester in the Men of Letters Bunker, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Flowers, Fluff, Gentle Kissing, Happy, Happy Ending, Happy Sex, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Love, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Soulmates, Slow Dancing, Texting, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23878609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnsmile/pseuds/spnsmile
Summary: Castiel leaving Dean to babysit Jack for a few hours comes back to find Dean declaring something utterly ridiculous as—“I’m going to make you happy!”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 17
Kudos: 134
Collections: #StayAtHomeChallenge, The Destiel Self-Rec Favs Collection





	Happy

**Author's Note:**

> just another Monday at home ^^ enjoy!  
> written for #SPNstayathome challenge

Castiel leaving Dean to babysit Jack for a few hours comes back to find Dean declaring something utterly ridiculous as—

“I’m going to make you happy!”

This after Jack casually praises Dean not only for being a very good hunter but also an expert hustler, baby driver, fisher, the best chef in the Bunker and just about everything Jack also wants to become (though not really a making of a very good role model), still made Dean feel so good about himself which was rare because in the Bunker— between him and his brother— these are all essential stuff they needed under their sleeves and he thinks Cas barely cares about trivial stuff so Dean appreciates the kid’s honesty because kids never lie.

Until the catch when the boy mentions something in lines of, “Except, you can’t make Cas happy,” making Dean’s eyebrows twitch.

“Excuse me? I can’t make Cas…happy? Did Cas tell you this? That I don’t make him happy?”

“No, but he doesn’t need to say anything. He is not happy, that’s—"

“Wait, you’re telling me I can’t make Cas happy?”

“I think you can’t do that.”

“Even if I’m hilarious?” it has gone very serious.

Actually, Jack means the deal with the Empty but Dean still ignorant of context naturally heard it differently. He heard it like a taunt a challenge on his ability. No one ever challenges Dean without the consequences for even doubting _le Dean Winchester_! Excuse his French, but he can do anything he put his mind into—and just like that when the angel finally returns from his errand as if summoned, Dean studies him very carefully wondering when the last time Cas’ smile muscles were ever used.

“Cas, you ever been happy?”

Castiel freezes like Dean just told him there’s no such thing as profound bond and continues to look like Dean just gutted him when Dean looks him square in the eyes.

“Happy. I am asking if you’ve ever been happy?”

Eyes widening with a frantic look that seems so out of place from a very simple question, Castiel dwindles. He glances at Jack’s direction searchingly before running the tip of his tongue on his chapped lips.

“Um… why?”

“Ah, shit.” Scraping sound of the chair on the floor as it gets pushed back, Dean stands up tall before the angel, dead flicker on his eyes.

“What—why?” Cas looks taken aback when Dean turns his heels and walks away. Exchanging a confused looked with Jack, the angel runs after him. “D-Dean, what?”

“You should have said something.”

“About what?” voice quivers a little but no one pauses to check as they drag the conversation to the corridor, possibly aiming for a door to shut on the angel’s face, but Cas doesn’t wait for that so he pulls Dean’s arm back.

“Dean—”

“You not being happy, alright?” annoyance not equal to the hunter’s troubled handsome face. Castiel quickly steps on Dean’s space in concern.

“I don’t understand. What’s my happiness got to do with you?” again with the quiver on the voice.

Dean rolls his eyes heavenward. “ I’m not supposed to ask my best friend if he is happy?”

Castiel shakes his head, lost for words, nothing to describe his shock at the turn of events. Dean returns it with guilt realizing how the ocean blue eyes always there when he is in dire need, those blues he considers so precious to behold have never expressed real joy since it’s fall. Just always stormy anger and determination to fulfill tasks after tasks season per season beneath the blues of the sky.

 _But never joy_. Well, one time with that burger… _Dammit. But then_ …

An idea suddenly occurs to Dean.

“Cas, I’ve never been a good friend to you—”

“That’s not—“

“No, hear me out. I really suck, I know—”

“Dean—” reprimanding, not right to say.

“I always make you angry—”

“Um… okay…” a slow take.

“I always get on your bad side—”

“That is true.” Approving this time.

“I annoy you most of the time—”

Castiel just nods not even trying to stop him now.

Dean glares. “Of course, you realize what this means, do you?”

“Um…” Castiel squints, remembering the Bugs Bunny line Dean always repeats when they watch the loony tunes together, “…war?”

“I’m gonna make you happy,” Dean says with relished determination.

Then true apprehension sets in. The angel saw it in his eyes.

Castiel gulps. “Please, don’t.”

Can’t make Cas happy? _You wanna bet?_

* * *

Three days passed since then. The Bunker remained at peace, oblivious to the upcoming storm. Dean was busy in his room while Castiel can only wait in vain. He becomes apprehensive every time Dean walks into the kitchen or the library or in his general vicinity. Except Dean only smiles at him and do absolutely nothing.

It begins with a text.

Dean smiles to himself in the kitchen with Sam drinking his coffee, Jack opposite him when Castiel’s familiar light steps come bounding from the corridor.

“Dean…”

Sam turns to the angel from his laptop, “Hey, Cas—get this—”

“Dean, you sent me a good morning text.” Cas says urgently, following Dean to the stainless kitchen worktable like he’s afraid Dean would vanish from thin air. Dean who’s wearing a gray calico apron on top of his dark green shirt, sleeves pulled up to his elbows and a very charming look on his face when they stand opposite each other with the angel holding his phone like it’s the bible.

Dean leans both hands on the table, smirking. “So?”

“There’s an emoji text… with a heart.” Cas insists like it’s very important that they understand and make it clear. Sam stares up quietly from one to another. Dean only smirks and shrugs like he’s teasing the overly reacting angel from a trivial text.

“There’s more where that came from, you just wait this afternoon, Cas.” Winks the hunter like it’s allowed to look even prettier in the morning with his beautifully shaped lopsided smirk playfully turning up as the angel helplessly stares in his direction.

Castiel’s eyes widen.

Oh, but that’s just the beginning.

“Dean, why are you thinking about me?”

Cas’ says from the other line of the phone with voice deep and sounding uncomfortable to Dean who’s currently driving the impala after a successful hunt for the day. Cas was left to babysit Jack in the Bunker while Dean took care of the ghouls in Minnesota that took about half a day to hunt and another half a day to kill.

Out of the Bunker the entire day, he messages Cas and promptly receives a call from a very stricken angel.

“You said in your message ‘I’m thinking about you’…Do you have any specific reason why you are thinking about me?”

“Nothing really,” Dean hums in satisfaction, “I’m just thinking about you, that’s all.”

Castiel gasps. “T-that’s very nice of you, Dean… umm…I cannot think of why a person would think about another—”

“Why? Aren’t you thinking about me all the time too?”

There’s a sound of something crashing on the floor so it’s either Cas was reading a book or holding a laptop and Dean’s betting it’s the latter so he hopes its Sam’s laptop.

Dean smirks again and perhaps just forgot Sam is sitting beside him until his brother clears his throat again with a funny look on his face.

Dean ignores him.

That same week when Castiel and Jack return from grocery shopping, Dean is there waiting for them in the war room table with a beer can in one hand and book on the other. He looks up and warmly greets them ‘Welcome home,’ especially giving Castiel a very long, meaningful look, green eyes speaking volumes of sincerity so Castiel stammers a response. Dean meets him on the bottom of the stairs and without a word, twirls Cas by the shoulder and begins removing his coat—

“D-Dean!?”

“Yeah, it’s summer, what are you doing still wearing this? You’ll get hot. Well, you’re hot—” and no one asks if it’s the current body temperature but Castiel adamantly fights him.

“My vessel does not respond to the weather as with you humans—”

Dean takes it off anyway, grinning at another success. Before Castiel can say anything, Jack stands Dean’s side, shoulders hunching and waiting for his own jacket to be peeled. Dean takes it too with a smirk, then sees Sam watching from the table giving him the same funny expression he had from the kitchen.

“You wanna get your flannel taken off too?” Dean shoots over Sam as he puts the coats on his arms. Sam rolls his eyes but it all didn’t matter because even when Cas seems annoyed when they reached the kitchen, he was smiling at Dean the entire evening with less coat off his shoulder.

And it just goes on and on be it in the Bunker, the Impala, in the middle of the case while they are working as FBI agents, Dean will just light up like fire in the middle of nowhere.

“Hey, Cas.”

“What?”

“Who do you think is my speed dial number 1?”

“Um… I’m guessing it’s no longer Sam?”

Dean laughs out loud before knocking on their prospect’s door with an agent’s grim expression returning on his face in a flick of a finger.

One night when Dean strolls past Sam in the kitchen comes the awaited talk because Sam has been watching them and knows it’s no longer ordinary ‘thing’ he can ignore even when he wished he could because just the other night, Sam caught the two dancing on top of the war room table with dopey smiles on their faces, arms around each other with Dean saying something about having a dream of tap dancing and symbolic lamps—

“Dean, you realize you’re giving Cas the ‘boyfriend treatment’...”

Dean who’s jut taken a can of beer from his stash doesn’t break a sweat shrugging, “You’re still speed dial 1 on my second phone, alright?”

“I—I don’t care! What’s up with you and Cas? Are you guys…?”

Dean leans his hips on the table and shrugs.

“Does it matter if we label it?”

“What?”

“Uh… I don’t know what you wanna hear, Sam, but… did you see how Cas’s been smiling a lot these days? And I just thought… it’s not bad. These simple things I’m doing… not bad at all.”

“Yes, I know, Dean. And it’s good.” Sam puts on the ‘I’m-trying-to-not-butt-in-but-i-think-you-need–to-hear’ look when he clasps both hands. “But don’t you think you’ll be confusing Cas? He told me about this whole thing, about how you were only trying to prove Jack a point. But this is more than a bet, Dean… This is Cas’ happiness… what’ll happen if you suddenly stop?”

Dean suddenly stops just enough to give Sam a serious look like he’s thinking and overthinking stuff once again before his thoughts come into a halt and he lifts his green eyes at his brother bearing something like a revelation lights his face.

He smiles.

“You got it all wrong, Sammy.” Then he was just gone.

* * *

“Are you happy?”

“Asking me this when you just shoved me on your door…” Castiel says, voice deep and husky inside Dean’s room, behind Dean’s closed door, with Dean upon him inches from his face, both hands on the angel's waist.

Castiel puts careful hands-on Dean’s chest, pushing him a little. Locking eyes with those beautiful orbs is enough for Castiel to forget why they were there in the first place.

“I think I maybe being selfish here, Cas but… I ….”

Castiel tilts his head.

“Why are you so fixated on making me happy, Dean?”

“Will this make you happy?”

“I prefer if you do not take this position.”

“What position?” Dean says, breathless, their hips dancing at the friction. Castiel takes Dean’s neck with rough hands and jerks him closer, foreheads bumping. In reality, Castiel is worried. Castiel knows Dean has been trying to make him happy for weeks now. With that kind of determination, it’s only natural Dean finally realizes what Castiel really wants.

“You don’t have to do all of this, Dean. Making me happy… this is too much…”

“You really want me to stop?” Dean says in a husky voice, his mouth already nipping on the angel’s chin sending shivers all over his body.

“I’m just saying you don’t have to do this to prove anything… Just stay by my side.”

“And if I really wanna do it?” the green eyes flash in arousal. Castiel eyes him searchingly, to see if Dean means it, if Dean is ready because Castiel has been waiting for a very long time. But he still fears it, fears the Empty that may just pull him out of nowhere.

“Are you scared, Cas?” Dean suddenly asks, pressing his lips on the angel’s cheeks, “Don’t look so scared… I’m gonna eat you, not leave you, ‘kay? I got you, Cas…”

Their lips crushed and it’s one thing for Dean to groan, another for Castiel to crush his lips on the man. When Dean lands flat on his back on the bed, Castiel as his top, he looks at the human—the man with the very soul he built from hell now ready to be taken apart again and all for him to take—

Dean who trusts him. Dean who loves him.

And Castiel realizes one thing that night when he wrecks havoc on Dean’s bed, while he breaks Dean apart and put him back again, it’s all too clear, realized why he was still in Dean’s arms the entire night, Dean resting on his chest.

Happiness is impossible to attain.

So, when Jack sits by his side munching on his sandwich months later with Castiel and Dean’s relationship out for the world to question yet bearing no real significance to their truth— comes the most important question.

“Cas, are you happy?”

“No, Jack,” Castiel says with eyes twinkling, watching Dean wrestle the Thanksgiving turkey in the oven. Dean whose wearing his apron again, against the blue shirt with solid determination to have the overlarge turkey inside his oven. Sam who’s there telling him how to do it. Dean growling, not listening just because.

“I’m not happy… I want to see more.”

Castiel just looks at Dean with pure hunger and longing and maybe yes, also lust. Such a human ‘thing’ he has acquired since living in this world for many years, first unable to grasp it until finally, it’s here, with him, a feeling also afflicting the angel. Of the real truth about happiness. That in a way, you cannot just say ‘enough’.

Not with what they have. Castiel smiles.

Oh, he is happy, but not too happy.

_He will never get enough of Dean._


End file.
